


Echo: Undaunted

by Meloncholor



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Carmilla is basically just an evil mastermind, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2020-01-11 06:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18424551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meloncholor/pseuds/Meloncholor
Summary: Isaac's biological sister struggles in undoing the evil Carmilla has wrought.





	1. Adrian

Carmilla sat lordly over her court assembled in the great hall, eyes dreary and listless from the long days’ work with her head cradled in the palm of her hand. Her disciples each stand at attention precisely lined to the far back of the great hall, the lily-white and shining silver of their dresses and armor making them a ghostly audience to Carmilla’s brooding. Sighing, she stands up, the attention of the followers following her fluid movement like the many eyes of a great beast. They are frozen in place, mere puppets until Carmilla allows her will to flow through them. “Lisa, step forward.” She commands her voice ringing clearly in the silent hall, and the procession parts as hurried footsteps echo on the red marble floors.   
A woman, with soft and inviting features, smiled as her gaze connected with Carmilla’s. She bowed as the vampire began to descend her throne with authoritative clacks of her heels, Lisa’s knee landing on the floor and arms spread wide in reverence. “I am at your will, my lady.” Her voice is soft and smooth, but still confident, her purpose is clear, a perfect specimen  
Carmilla lands in front of the woman and graces the disciple with a cruel and wicked smile. “I have a task for you, Lisa of Lupu.”

-0-

 _“Echo, you must be swift, the guards will not fail to notice you for long.”_ Her brother whispered to her in her mind, his calm voice a beacon for her own divided thoughts. He would guide her to him, she was sure of it. Adrian cooed softly in her arms, hands reaching up for her, untangling from his blankets.   
“Shhh…” She whispered softly to him and tucked him in tighter. She clutched the baby closer to her breast as another silver plated guard rounded the corner. Her eyes followed him as he traveled further down the hall, unaware that his charge was missing from her shackles. God had long been forsaken from her mind, but now in the farthest part of her thoughts, she prayed for her safety, and her son’s. _“God has no love for the likes of us, you will see yourself out of this place, not him.”_ She nodded, taking a breath.  
Her legs ached as she dashed from their hiding position, her magic not fully revived enough to just teleport her from this prison. The hall adjacent was empty and she was able to cross a great distance, past dimly lit sconces and grim paintings of death and destruction down the long wine-red rug. Her heart leaped from her chest as she could hear the heavy footfalls of a guard, and quickly ducks into a side room as he manifested down the path. She held her breath, stepping away from the door as the guard drew near. Each pounding of his feet on the carpet sending another wave of fear up into her body. It will not end here. She told herself. And she held her breath. Adrian was now becoming upset, squirming in his mother’s arms and whining at his constriction. She whispered to him again, sure that they were both well-hidden in the small unlit room, behind what she assumed to be a piece of decorative furniture. “We will be free soon my sweet boy.” She coos, smiling and tucking away one of his curls. “But for now I must ask you to be quiet.” The baby smiles, arms reaching to grasp the hand rubbing at his cheeks. Echo smiles in turn but turns back to the door to make another run for it.  
The guard is gone, the sound of his boots much farther away. She holds Adrian close to her again and bolts from the room. The hall continued, the only comfort she could take now was her infant son and the sight of the outside world from the pane glass windows to her right. Despite the torrential rain and tumultuous sky, she knew that there was something else to look forward to. Eventually, the hall broke way to a spiral staircase, lit only by blue-flamed torches. She hesitated, eyes flickering from the torches to the windows to her son, fear slowing her steps. _“You must press on.”_ She hears her brother whispered. “It is your only hope now.”  
Echo takes the first tentative steps, the stone cold and rough against her bare feet, and then another step, and then another, each taking her further down into the stairwell. The hall slowly faded behind her as harsh blue light took over her scenery. The windows were gone, and somehow she felt much farther from her goal than before. Adrian had fallen asleep, limply curled in her arms. His warmth kept her from despairing as the darkness crept ever closer from the bottom of the stairwell. Soon the pair hit the landing, opening up into a smaller room, not much taller than herself, with one singular door at the opposite of them both. She stepped closer, keeping her son planted firmly against her chest.  
“Lady Carmilla would see you now.” Echo nearly jumped from her own skin and turned to face the neutral face of the guard, dread, and hatred bubbling up from in her stomach. Adrian, startled out of his nap began to cry in gut-wrenching sobs. She knew that right now she was too weak to resist, and she would never risk hurting Adrian. The guard brandished a silver spear in one hand, and with the other gestured to the door opposite. “She has been waiting for you.”  
Tears prickled at the corner of her eyes, but she wouldn’t dare let them fall before this guard or his mistress. So she shut her eyes and turned to the door. The guard, impatient it seems, came up behind her and opened from his position. Flooding the small area in warm light. Echo steps into the next room, and is greeted by Carmilla, and Lisa, the most faithful of her disciples.   
“Come now, did you really believe I’d let you leave? Especially with _him_?” Carmilla was seated atop a leather lounge, sipping on wine while Lisa stood beside her in a deep red dress, eyes devoid of emotion and hand neatly held at her waist.


	2. Dinner for Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's home after all of this time, but Adrian still rattles her mind.

“Lisa my dear,” Carmilla purred, voice dripping with poison like icicles on a warm day. “It is time to execute the next phase of our plan.” Her voice flickered on the reflective surface of the water, her visage glimmering through the depths. Lisa stood on the other side, smiling with weary eyes at her master.

“Of course my lady, I am at your whim.” She was leaned over the water’s banks, knees digging into the cold mud, staining the front of her dress. She spoke softly into the bog’s reflection of Carmilla, whose face had split into a hungry grin. “If I may be so bold as to say it, but I miss you, I miss the commune.” Lisa pleads, a dull pain forming in her gut, this place would be the end of her.

“Your suffering will not be for much longer my sweet Lisa.” Her voice echoed-she must have been in the great hall.  “For the last task I have for you will be your death.”

The pain in her lower half twisted, tight for a moment. “Really my lady?”

Carmilla nodded thoughtfully, the smile on her face not diminishing. “It is arguably the most important step of our process. But you are one of our most faithful my sweet, and in your death, we will not only achieve our goals, but you will be honored as the truest agent of my desires.” She gestured behind her and revealed the expanse of the great hall, soldiers lined in long rows. “You will be our rallying cry, Lisa.” And on that note, the hall breaks into a raucous cheer, the sounds of an army ready for war at her back.

Joyful tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, and Lisa clutched her chest, the fear of death gone from her mind. “I-I can ask for no greater end then my lady.”

Carmilla hummed in delight. “Then I will make the necessary arrangements. Be at your cottage when night falls.” The reflection of the Vampire lord flickered and drifted away with the ripples in the water, leaving behind the imprint of her cruel smile on Lisa.

 

-0-

 

Isaac stirred a rumbling pot of meager stew over a small fire in his kitchen, Echo curled under a blanket only a few feet away. It was one of those long nights, where she woke up drained and listless, her thoughts only able to focus on her son. She’d wake in the dead of night, shooting up from her bed with a violent scream startling her brother in the other room. He’d come to assist her but all she could think of was the boy. He made her stew of lentils and red meat to soothe her nerves, and she would watch him as her senses returned.

“What do you think he’s like Isaac?” She pulled the blanket tighter around her small body.

“Strong, determined, headstrong. Perhaps a bit optimistic.” He brought the spoon to his mouth and tasted the savory broth.

“Do you think he takes after me?” She probed, “Do you think he would look anything like me?”

“You are his mother Echo, he would have to look like you I assume.”

“Being glib makes me feel no better than before Isaac.” She muttered indistinctly to herself, the nightmares still shaking her up inside. 

He laughed with her, pouring a ladle of the stew into a polished stone bowl. “You will see him again sister, I am sure of it.” He crossed the room and set the bowl down on the small table in front of her, sitting across from it. “However, if I may ask…” She looked up and the white of her tattoos against the dark of her skin made them glow in the sparse firelight. “Can you not ‘reach’ out to him? As you did me?” 

She thought for a moment, obsidian black eyes pulling away from his, “I have no idea why I cannot. Perhaps because of his vampire blood, but in truth, I do not know.” Her demeanor seemed to worsen, eyes growing distant and teary. “I am afraid Isaac.” She starts. “Her plans are coming to an apex soon. There won't be any avoiding it now.” The blanket was pulled as close as she could get, trying to make herself smaller, so that she may be swallowed whole by her sadness.

“We can not--” Isaac started, but four heavy raps rattled the small wooden door of the cottage they had holed themselves in. Echo jumped despite herself, heart caught in her throat as her brother shot her a glance of caution. “Stay.” He whispered and Echo nodded. She shied away from the direction of the door, shedding the blanket and gently lifting herself into the air to stay silent. There was the sound of metal slipping against metal as he pulls his blade from its sheath. It thrummed with magical energy as he approached the door. She floated, weightless and cautious towards the back of the room, ready for a defensive front. The air stills as his hands rest on the door handle, and the click of the latch echoes as he swings it open. 

“Hello, old friend.” The voice was strong, but waning; a man in mourning stood on the other side of the door. The blade in her brother's hand was lowered. His overall form relaxed, eyes drifting closed as he stepped back to accommodate the other man.

“Isaac? What's going on?” Echo commanded, her hands already surging with residual magic, crackling with blue electricity. “Who is it?” There was one heartbeat. Then another. Onyx eyes met ruby as Dracula stepped into the room, towering above them both. The vampire king looked like a long shadow in the evening, the way his cloak sheathed his body. He froze in her presence as she slowly lowered herself to the floor. 

“And who might you be?” He asked, eyes crawling up her form. 

She couldn’t answer for a moment, the scared voice in her mind pleading her to ask a forbidden line of questions. Her body relaxed as her feet landed on the floor. She was finally able to put a face to the name. Adrian’s father in the flesh. “Where is my son?” She asks, voice shaking with palpable rage.

Her rage is mirrored in Dracula and his previously calm expression contorts itself. “What are you talking about woman?” He spits out, fists clenching underneath the cloak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update coming soon! Leave a comment if you like, if you hate or if you just want to call me a fake gamer girl.


	3. Hag

“WHERE IS MY SON!?” She yells, and it barely takes Isaac inserting himself between them both for Echo not to lunge forward and attack his lord. The magic in the room surges with crackling electrical energy as she takes her first step towards them both. Dracula’s bloodied eyes were icy as his form stretched and his long shadow encompasses the room.

“You dare make demands of me?” He bares his fangs and his voice booms in the small enclosed room. Dracula's fists shook with unbridled anger, but the explosion fizzled away as the blood and rage retreated from his eyes; replaced by a look of defeat and sadness. “How typical,” He mutters, slumping against the sturdy door frame “I come to a human for aid, and this is the hospitality I am offered in return.” Tears threaten to fall. Isaac rests a hand on one of his large shoulders.

“Please, calm yourself-- Both of you.” He casts a pleading glance at Echo, who was still smoldering; her round lips pressed into a thin line. “And come sit, you would not be here if you did not have something important to ask of me.” His hand still placed on Dracula's shoulder, he gestured to a side room a few feet from the door. The residual magic in the air slowly fizzled out of existence as Echo willed herself into a state of calm. Adrian still lingered on her mind as she watched the other two drift into the tea room. Echo debated on whether or not to follow them, because truth be told it made her heart hurt. Adrian had his eyes… Did he walk like him? Talk like him? If she was honest with herself she was afraid to know. Her dissipated anger morphed into a feeling of longing. He had no idea, and he probably would never believe her. The room felt hollow with the other two gone, and the faint smell of burnt air made her realize she may have had a tad bit of an overreaction. She was now plagued with a twinge of regret and she couldn't stop herself from retracing their steps to the tea room.

Echo leant against the door for a second, hearing only small depressed whispers. She takes a deep breath and opens the door. There was a musky incense burning on the far side of the room. It filled the small space with a curling white smoke and Echo almost couldn't see the two men facing each other at the tea table or the tea set resting between them. Dracula was wrapped in his dark cloak, using it more as a security blanket. Her shame is drawn on her face as her mind reaches out to them both. “ _ My apologies _ .” She lets her guilt be known, and Dracula's heart races as his mind is penetrated by the woman. 

He shoots a glance at Isaac, whose expression is unchanged. “This is my sister. Echo.” He gestures to her. “Please excuse her earlier outburst, she is in much distress as of late.” He pours himself a cup of tea from the clay pot. And then another for his sister. “Now please, tell me what is on your mind.” 

His eyes darted to Echo, who was contentedly sipping at the herbal tea, her rage also seemingly replaced by sorrow. He turns back to Isaac.

“Lisa, my wife, is dead.” Glass shatters. Both sets of eyes snap back to Echo, who was now holding the shattered remains of her teacup in a tightly closed fist. A small trail of blood emerged from between her fingers. Their minds were filled with feelings of her apology as she quickly stood and left the room. The shards still lay where her feet were placed a few drops of blood accompanying them. Her brother, nearly leaped from his seat to follow her, but something told Dracula that she had made sure he would not follow. The Vampire Lord had to fight back an indescribable urge to follow the woman as well and ensure her safety but remained seated across from Isaac. 

“I am...sorry for your loss my friend, but I am afraid there are some issues that need to be discussed.” He clenched his fists. “Echo and I are...aware of your wife's passing.” 

“I'm sorry?” Dracula was beginning to think this was all some sort of cruel joke as if he was strung up like fate's little plaything. “What are you getting at Isaac? I'm starting to question my expedition here. If someone in this goddamn house doesn't explain themselves soon I will lose my patience.” He reaches up and pinches the bridge of his nose, staving off an oncoming headache.

“Lisa's death is not under the circumstances you believe to be true,” Isaac says coolly. “My sister knows much more on the subject than I. But you might understand that there are greater forces at play for the moment.”

“Isaac you are speaking complete nonsense.” Dracula spits, the energy draining from his form. “I've no time for human conspiracies.” 

“Are you still my friend?” 

He freezes, the question unanticipated. Dracula nods.

“Then we must speak to my sister.”

 

The water is cool as she dips her hands in, but the clear liquid on her cuts still stings and she winces. She tempers her mind as lets her magic extend itself outward, mending shut the tiny wounds in her hands. She sits in the center of the living area, a wooden bowl in front of her. She breathed slowly, clearing her mind as she let the magic flow forth. The shallow bowl is enough to submerge to her wrists and the water grows murky as her magic works through the healing process. She feels the two figures approach from behind and tenses her shoulders. Dracula's mind is skeptical and weary he just wants his suffering to be over. That, was something Echo could understand. So she forms her words as concisely as she can. “ _ Lisa of Lupu is a deceitful hag.”  _ Echo manages, and can't help the small delight she feels as the rage in Dracula begins to bubble up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 3:30 am. Tell me how I did. Or call me a fake gamer girl. I don't mind.


	4. A Precious Wife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Echo shows Dracula only a small fraction of what she knows.

“I’ve had enough of your childish games  _ witch _ !” He grit through sharpened teeth. He reached out his hand, prepared to burn this hut to the ground, regardless of the help he needed or not. “How dare you--” But his words died in his throat as he felt fire laden hands tighten around the base of his esophagus. He sputters and blood flies from his mouth, turning to Isaac, he only sees his own shock and horror mirrored in his eyes. They both turned to Echo, who had finally stood to face them; she cradled a small white flame in her left palm.

_ “This is the flame of St. Peter.”  _ Her voice boomed in the back of their skulls.  _ “It will not kill you, but you will not be able to bother me any further.”  _ Her brows furrowed and the flame intensified, nearly bursting free from her hand. Dracula nearly doubled over, the pain surging throughout his body. She clenched her fist and the flame dissipated, along with the piercing heat that had taken over his body. Her voice came from somewhere distant, but it was softer now, more patient.  _ “You will learn to behave yourself in my brother’s home, Vlad Tepes.” _ She lowered her clenched fist, and it trembles slightly as the magic takes its toll.

His rage was gone. Completely erased, as if the flame had just been...plucked out of his heart replaced only by his sadness once again. He stood straight, using a shaking hand to pull his cloak tighter around him. Vlad Dracula the Impaler’s voice came out small, weak, and shaky. “W-what are you?” 

_ “Come, sit.”  _  She walks over and takes a seat on one of the smaller chairs on the far end of their fire pit. As she gets comfortable the flame bursts to life. 

“Please.” Isaac implores and gestures to the other chairs around the fire. Dracula nods.

He gets comfortable in his own chair, sitting across from the two siblings. The fire dances between them. The chair is comfortable, and he is oh so very tired all of a sudden. It flickers a dark red, and it moves in waves, much unlike a real fire. Dracula is drawn to it like moths to the gas lighting of his castle, Then he realized neither of the siblings has said a thing. The edges of his vision goes dark as he looks at it longer, and before it goes completely black, he can hear the soft voice in his mind.  _ “Let me show you what I am.” _

 

He was no longer warm where they were standing. The air that surrounded them was crisp and cold, the floor beneath his boots was hard and flat, much different from the clay tiles of Isaac’s hut. His eyes stung in their sockets, and his head felt as though he’d been sleeping for days. The light poured down on them from overhead, Dracula looked up, the ceiling was a beautiful windowed dome, and he could see the raging blizzard blow across the glass. He tried to move, but he was rooted by a pair of small hands intertwined with his. He looked down and Echo was standing there, eyes closed and brows furrowed. But her visage was unclear, it rippled and shifted, the warm brown tones of her skin and clothes blended together as if she was glass underneath water. Her grip was firm, and he was beyond sure that she was really there.

He heard voices next, hushed whispers down one of the corridors, followed by the authoritative clacking of heels against the polished floors. He whipped around his head in a dazed panic, searching for the source. 

“Lady Carmilla?” The familiar voice sang in his ears, and his heart stopped beating in its cavity. 

“Lisa?” He tried to speak, but his voice echoed as if they were in a deep cavern, and he knew she couldn’t hear. 

“My lady, I don’t quite understand your intentions.” Carmilla? Dracula tried to move towards her but felt Echo’s hands on him again and he thought better of it, something told him that she was the only thing keeping them here.

Two women entered the room, in long flowing winter finery, draped in white and silver furs. Several guards trailed behind them as they made their way to the center of the ballroom. He saw his Lisa, painted and primped in a way he had never seen before. Gold plaits tied into a bun laden with silver and pearls, he had never taken her for someone who would adorn themselves with such things. Had he really forgotten so much? 

“My dear, it isn’t that complex, you will simply  _ feign _ that the baby is yours.” Carmilla’s tone is even but commanding. She plucks stray lint from the furs around her shoulder and flicks it away. “We will provide your transport back and ensure your safety.” 

“But what about…” Her eyes moved to the guard and back to the taller woman. “The  _ witch _ , my lady?”

Was her voice always so cold? So calculated? He feels fatigued as crying starts echoing from the other hall.

“Lisa my sweet, for all your cunning you worry just as much.” She snaps her fingers and another guard appears from the opposite corridor, cradling a bundle in his arms. It was a baby. And as the guard drew closer, he could tell  _ exactly _ who that baby was. 

He pulled hard against Echo’s hands. “My boy?”

“I will admit, my lady, I am apprehensive about raising the witch’s spawn…” the guard stepped into their space, offering up the crying baby, squirming and struggling in his unmoving arms. Lisa, his precious wife, looked down at the child with visible disgust. “ _ Very  _ apprehensive.”  It’s another moment before he takes the now screaming baby into her arms to soothe it.

“Duly noted Lisa.” She turns to the guard. “Have her and the boy taken back to their cottage in Lupu. I would also like an update on the whereabouts of one Mr. Tepes.” The sullen guard nodded curtly and disappeared back down the other hall.

“I will do what is in your best interests, my lady.” She looked down at the baby, awkwardly rocking it to calm it down.

 

The images in front of him began to ripple as Lisa walked away, following the other guard. He turned back to Echo, to beg for more time, but her grip began to wane. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, and the world around them faded into darkness. 

When her grip finally released they were back at the hut, and Echo collapsed to the floor in a pool of her own sweat. Her breath heaved as her chest rose and fell. “Echo!” Isaac called out, but Dracula beat him to it, scooping the small woman up in his arms. He kneeled and lay her in his lap, laying a cold white hand on her forehead, almost jumping back at the heat. 

“We need to get to the castle.” He said plainly, standing with ease. “Come Isaac.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yayyyyy I did it! Please help me I'm so tired.


	5. The Font

She woke up in a bed that was not her own. Her head was pounding and the bright blue lights made her shut her eyes almost as soon as she opened them. It was deathly cold, and the cot she was laying on was not one meant for the comfort of a guest. The cold was familiar, almost too familiar.

 

_ Carmilla _

 

The air was dry and it made her skin itch and she resisted the urge to scratch at it. Straining, she opened her eyes again. The room was small. Blood red wallpaper with garish gold filigree around the trim. It was only wide enough for the cot she was laying on, and the door in front of her was made of steel. The only other object in the room was the lamp, and it was much too bright for a room this small.

This was not her prison, Carmilla kept her cells undecorated and lightless. It was more stone and the doors didn’t have windows. She let out a sigh, releasing her worries. But Echo couldn’t help but wonder why she was here. This was clearly a cell; A nice one, but a cell nonetheless.

Either way, it was pointless to stay here. She took one last look at the awful decor then shut her eyes to focus.  Echo let her magic extend to her feet, extending out of her toes she could feel herself becoming weightless, one with the air, but when she tries to float off of the cot pain shoots through her body and she collapses to the ground.

She lands with a hard thud and the metal echoes outside of the door. What is this? She looks back around the room, panicked, but there weren’t any wards or hex signs. The wallpaper wasn’t dog-eared at the edges, suggesting that no one had pulled it away to write something. But why? She couldn’t wrap her brain around it.

There was a noise outside the door, it was muffled, but it was sharp and rang out in what she assumed to be the hall outside. Immediately consumed with fear she scurried to the only hiding place beneath the cot, readying herself for an attack. She was weak, and her only course of action was to use physical force, there was nothing in sight that could be used for a weapon, so she steadied herself for a tackle. The noise drew closer, hard-soled shoes scraping against metal flooring.  _ Was it Carmilla? Perhaps a guard?  _

The door swung open, and on the other side was a soft-looking man with coffee-colored skin. He had long silver curls, and his expression was one of mild panic. His eyes flit about for a moment with confusion until he looked down and saw Echo poised like a cat beneath the threadbare cot. His eyes widened in shock and his breath hitched. “Um, are you Lady Echo by chance?” He radiated a non-threatening aura, and with a bit of embarassment she came out from under the cot.

_ “Yes.”  _

If it were possible, his eyes would have widened more. His hand’s balled into tight fists when he heard her voice come from somewhere off in his own head. She was even surprised that she was strong enough for that 

“W-well um,” He nervously bowed his head. “Milord is waiting for you in his solar.” 

She nods curtly and brushes past him and out the door. The small cell she was in opened into an odd room. There were large bowls and veins of glass on every table, and books were scattered, even spilling out onto the floor in some cases. Light poured in from every angle, converging on a point in the center of the room. She was drawn forward, towards the light, the man broke into a short jog behind her to catch up. Her legs were still weak, as well as her magic, but with more light, she soaked in, the better she began to feel.

“The solar is just across this room my lady, it’s best not to keep him waiting.”

“ _ Very well.” _ She said tiredly, but stayed just ahead of him, carving her own path through the room. She followed the columns of light to the center, where a large golden sphere entombed in glass floated in the air. Echo felt undeservedly calm here, the sphere gently spun around its axis and as she stepped a little closer, she realized she hadn’t been stepping at all. She was now eye level with it, her feet a few inches above the floor.

_ “What is this?”  _ Her voice was strong now, clear in his head.

“Well, I am not sure milady. That would be a question for the lord.”

She floated closer, inspecting the small golden sphere through its glass prison. It was spinning much faster than the glass, and being so close she could even tell that it was giving off a considerable amount of heat. She rested her palm on the glass and it bloomed with warmth and energy, she instantly felt as though she was a turtle sunbathing on a distant beach.

“You shouldn’t touch that.” His voice was smooth, unshaken and unannoyed.

“Oh, hello milord, extremely sorry for our delay.” The silver-haired man bowed to him.

“It is fine Hector, I trust the lady is fine as well?” He looked up to Echo, who was still searching around the object.

Echo was a bit surprised to see him there.  _ “I would like to know what it is.”  _ Hector looked between them both, to make sure his lord had heard her voice as well.

“Come here then, and I’ll show you. But only if you’ll speak to me afterward.” He reached out a hand. Vlad was in what would be loungewear for him, forgetting his cape and overcoat in favor or his undershirt and tailored boots.

She didn’t have to think about it for long.  _ “If you insist.”  _ She floated down to him, resting her hand in his and he guided her to hover at his side. He sets his own hand on the glass, and the trio watch as the golden pearl in the center begins to emit light. 

“This is what I like to call, a magical font.” The pearl glows inside its shell, rotating faster than before. “It creates magical energy, but I haven’t had the time to study why.” He pulls the hand away and the pearl slows its rotation, but it glows for a moment after he moves.

Looking down, Echo realizes he never actually let go of her hand, she quickly snatches it up.  _ “Let us speak now then.” _ She commands.

“Very well.” Vlad smiles and heads to the door of his solar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a while to work out the kinks in this one. Tell me how I did!


	6. The Solar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Echo makes a demand.

The heavy doors to his solar slam shut behind them both. The light is dim, filtering through the uneven curtains, she idly wonders whether or not it was real sunlight. Echo is silent as she floats in, eyeing the trinkets and papers that fill every shelf in his study. The decor is comforting, Carmilla’s decorations were often disturbing or eerily graphic. This place is warm and calm, a place of self-reflection. Relaxing a little, she chooses a space just in front of his desk to hover shifting into a sitting position above the floor. Vlad moved soundlessly to his desk, around the chairs and coffee tables near the fireplace. He took a moment to look around and decided on standing, watching as she made herself comfortable. His eyes lingered on her for a moment as he thinks, eyeing her up and down. Her clothes are simple, comfortable, fit for the hot climes of the desert. He reminded himself of his decorum.

_ “What do you wish to speak about.”  _ Her voice was stern and chiding, and her brows furrowed as the thought was projected to him; Vlad wouldn’t have taken her for being the impatient type. He hesitated for another moment, the words escaped him.

“It is a difficult subject to speak on.” he leaned against the broad side of the desk. “You have shown me much that...conflicts with the decision I’ve made concerning this war thus far.” He deflates a little, avoiding her gaze. “I still wonder what your intentions are.”

Her face is expressionless, onyx eyes glinting a flameless rage behind the veil of dignity. She exhales a short sigh through her nose.  _ “My intention was not to confuse you if that is your reason for calling me here.” _ She adjusts her ‘sitting’ position, crossing her legs and resting her hands on her knees.  _ “My only wish was to provide clarification.” _

“And there is no doubt you have. I am, however, a bit at a loss.” Vlad feels a prickle at the back of his neck, the woman’s magic filling his own head with thoughts of mild confusion. The magic that surrounded her was almost familiar now, the warm buzz at the back of his mind acted as a constant reminder of her power. He huffed, and his shoulders sank.“What I am trying to say is that I am at a disadvantage.” He draws whirling circles in the air as he searches for the next of his words. Echo just watches him impatiently from her invisible perch, tapping idly on her exposed thigh. He forces himself to not watch the hand, focusing his attention on the empty fireplace. “This conspiracy has apparently been unraveling beneath my nose for  _ years _ and someone who I thought was the love of my life was central in its completion.” He stands up from the desk, deciding instead to pace in front of it, his steps more hurried the longer he went on. “My son was born to a woman I do not know, and I nearly killed him over a woman he and I had no reason to defend. I am simply…” His voice trailed off, and he looked up to her with hurt and sorrow in his eyes. She didn’t mirror any expression, the only indication she was even listening was the warm feeling of her magic blanketing the room. He’s vaguely reminded of Isaac again. They’re very similar, but he can’t pinpoint where this indescribable feeling of unease when she sets her eyes on him. The large man sat back down on the desk. His frame looked small as if he were trying to fold into himself. His eyes were weary and distant, staring off into the space behind the woman.“Lost.”

_ “No, you aren’t, not completely.” _ She spoke with surety, her obsidian eyes focused on him. She moved into a lounging position, draping her legs across an invisible chaise with her long skirt trailing down towards the floor. _ “I did not give you this knowledge to leave you to your own devices.” _ She floated to the floor, delicately landing on the woven rug one foot at a time. His eyes only slightly widen, his eyebrow arching as she took another few steps towards the desk. She stood squarely in front of him, chin high and shoulders squared. This close, Vlad can see the waves of pain in her dark eyes. And strangely enough, it comforts him. _ “However,”  _ She starts.  _ “In return for my help, I must ask something of you in return.” _

Vlad nods and hums to himself, his arched brow furrowing back down. He can see her hands shaking. “It’s about Adrian isn’t it.” His neck prickles again, followed by the overwhelming, weighted feeling of sadness burrow down on him. 

“Yes.” She says, and the word falls from her lips this time. It takes him aback, as her voice is small and trembling as if the sound of it scared her. Her eyes are cold and hard as steel, reflecting out the fire of her determination.

“You want to see him.” Vlad’s heart breaks as he watches her stoic expression softened into sadness. Her eyes plead to him, saying words she could never really speak.

“Yes.” She repeats, her voice growing only a little stronger. She balled her hands into tight fists, trying desperately not to shake.

“I cannot express how sorry I am.” He stands up from the desk, taking a step closer, they are only an arm’s length apart now, and he could smell the incense and earth wafting off of her. Despite her unwillingness to express her feelings, he can’t help but have his heart break at the thought of her despair. “But, he left under the impression that I was waging a war on humanity for the sake of his mother.”

Her voice is sharp and desperate in the back of his mind, prodding at him from the inside. The sound rings against the inside of his ears.  _ “Dracula, I waited many long years to see my son. I refuse to offer my aid unless he is by my side again.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I put this a little farther up on the list of updates because someone asked. If you like, leave a comment. Or you could just call me a fake gamer girl.


	7. The Halls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Echo gets a bit of a tour.

His look was stern as he thought about his options, but her conviction didn’t falter. “Very well.” He huffed, defeated. He moves to drop into a nearby armchair, sinking deep into its velvet cushions. He rested his head in his palm as he watched her intently.

A small smile graced her delicate features, and the weight of the air in the room lifted off of them. “ _ I am glad we have come to an agreement Dracula.” _ And before he can retort she’s lifting off from the ground and floating out of his solar, he feels the tendrils of her thoughts leaving his mind. With a sigh, he resigns to his loneliness again.

Hector and Isaac are waiting just outside, holding an idle conversation in front of the magical font. When the heavy doors slam behind her, both men snap to attention and turned to face her. “Ah, there you are lady Echo,” Hector chimed, bowing from the waist. “Isaac and I are tasked with showing you to your quarters.” Her stare was unrelenting, whether it was fear, malice, or just a genuine dislike of speaking, she didn’t answer. But shifted her gaze between the two of them. Hector squirmed in the silence, his eyes pleaded over to Isaac, who’s expression was serene, complacent even.

Playful energy fills the back of their minds as she hides a mischievous smile behind her hand.  _ “I would like to explore the castle, first.”  _ The abrupt mind intrusion made Hector jump, but the man tried to maintain his cool facade nonetheless. Isaac just managed a chuckle.

“Well, um, lady Echo, we were instructed--”

“Hector.” Isaac’s voice was stern but cool. He set a heavy hand on Hector’s shoulder, relaxing the other man. “Echo please, come with us.” Isaac gestured to the other side of the library, towards the larger entry doors. Hector was visibly uncomfortable, eyes darting between them both, but didn’t question the other man’s intentions.

_ “Very well.” _ She bows in turn to Hector and follows him and her brother out into the hall. 

She was startled by the striking similarity to Carmilla’s castle, but she supposes there are only limited architectural options for vampires. However, she noted the sconces were, off somehow. The light was brighter, but they were smaller, and less of them lined the walls. “The Lord also wishes to apologize for keeping you in the observation room while you were recovering,” Hector said properly. Isaac led them down the winding hallway in silence, traveling deeper into the labyrinth of the castle. “We didn’t have accommodations for humans...that you would tolerate, at least. 

Her voice was pointed in the back of his mind,  _ “Well, the  _ Lord _ could have said that in the solar.”  _ She floats a bit ahead of him, eyes exploring the painted walls. 

“He is not good with, people.” Hector laughs, and they turn another corner, down a flight of stairs. “But he has good intentions.”

“Here, this is the courtroom.” Isaac interrupts them. And they approach a large archway leading into a well lit, sparsely decorated hall with a vast crystal chandelier descending from the ceiling. 

_“Oh my…”_ As the group entered, her eyes were drawn up to the ceiling. Ghostly figures danced across the painted surface as the chandelier rotated in place. More of the tiny flameless sconces lined each of the polished obsidian pillars. _“It’s beautiful in here.”_  Her magic drew her into the air above them, her body mindlessly following the baroque patterns along the walls and pillars. Carmilla’s palace was sparse in ambiance, save for her own sanctuary. The bare stone walls and blue torches made for an effective prison. But here there was so much more light, despite the lack of windows, and it seemed every corner held a piece of personal filigree or decoration.  
“I knew you would like it.” Isaac smiled, relaxing a little more as his sister roams free about the room.

Hector strides up to the man as his sister floats in the airspace above them. “She’s quite...explorative, is she not?” He nervously banters as she zips a little higher up the columns. 

“I would just say ‘curious’.”

“Do you think the lord will keep her around?” Hector asks, holding his hands behind his back. The question is innocent, but nonetheless it irks Isaac.

“My sister is not a pet Hector, she is not something to ‘keep around’.” The other man jabs, not looking away from the woman canvassing the ceiling. 

“Oh goodness no! I didn’t mean to offend, I just meant that he doesn’t quite have a fondness for...humanity.”

“Are we not human as well?”

“I suppose that is fair enough.”

Echo ignores them, tracing along the thick lines with delicate fingers. Did Vlad do this all by himself? The flowers and vines painted in black covered almost every inch of the ceiling, she supposed he did have time to, after all. It was detailed enough that she could even make out some of the flowers, she noted he had a fondness for daisies and the thought made her laugh. Despite the obviousness of this being a vampire’s castle, Echo felt comfortable. It was not a labyrinth of foreboding hallways and winding staircases, but a man’s home. She imagined Adrian sprinting through the hallways with unabashed glee as… She stops. Hand freezing on the tempera. Sadness creeps up from the pit of her stomach, but she’s quickly pulled away by Isaac shouting for her.

“Echo, we should be getting to your quarters soon,” He started. “We can cut through the lounge to get there.” He points to an arch not far away from her, leading out into another hallway.

She didn’t realize how high up she actually was. She was tracing along the edges of the tops of the columns and she had to descend quite a way before she could even hear the men clearly again.  _ “Sorry for my distraction, it is quite well decorated in here.”  _ She gave a curt bow to both as Isaac led them off towards another corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a bit of a bridge right now, hence the lower word count and such. Leave a comment if you like, if you don't or if you just want to call me a fake gamer girl.


	8. Her Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vlad takes away the boys' thunder.

They followed the dim hall, absent of any sconces or lights like before. She notes the stark lack of any decoration or paintings lining these walls.  _ “And where are we going now Isaac?”  _ She prods. Her brother turns, heading down another corridor. 

“We have an important engagement to make, you will not be disappointed.” Isaac’s voice isn’t stern, almost jovial (for him at least). The next hall opened up to an archway, leading out onto a bridge. Echo froze at its edge, where the sun’s rays stopped. She actually landed on the stone floor, to walk along the bridge with her own two feet. She strode past Isaac and Hector, who each sported their own version of a self-satisfied grin. The sun was a dazzling speck over the sandy horizon, the dunes turned a brilliant orange by its rays. She realized then that they had never actually left the desert her and Isaac called home, and it comforted her more than she realized. It was a harrowing sight to see her homeland from such an angle, to see the sky stretch out overhead of an endless sea of gold. And in that short-lived moment. She sees it descend past the horizon, dragging along its life giving rays behind the wall of the darkening sky. When its flame was finally snuffed, the whole of the desert went from gold to blue in moments.

“I was wondering if this was where Isaac was taking you.” She’s startled by a smooth baritone voice, cutting through the silence that had fallen over the group. Dracula stood in the shadow of the door opposite, only the virulent red of his eyes was visible. 

“My lord!?” Hector floundered. “I didn’t think--”

“I do hope neither of you mind, but I wish to take on the last leg of this tour.” He takes a step out into the twilight, doubly making sure the sun was not out. “I must speak to our guest.”

Isaac simply nods, resting a hand on his compatriot's shoulder and turning them both to walk back down the hall. “I will speak with you later Echo,” he says over his shoulder.

_ “Very well.” _ She whispers to him. She turns back to Vlad, who was waiting patiently for her. He gestured to the hall he had just appeared from, guiding her inside.

“Did you enjoy the sunset?” He remarked as she picked up and floated past him.

_ “Yes.”  _ She said,  _ “I am assuming you did not see it?” _ Echo is surprised when he laughs. 

“I have not seen a sunset in a long time.” They walk/float side by side down the long hall, much longer than any of the others she had been in.

_ “Is there a reason you have decided to escort me the rest of the way? _ ” Her voice took over the forefront of his thoughts and she could sense that he had made an effort to block her out from going any deeper.

They were coming upon another intricately carved door, standing alone at the end of the hall. “I wish to be a good host.” It’s all he says, but not all he means. She squinted at him, trying not to make a show of trying to pry through his tightly packed thoughts. He was still wearing his comfortable garb from earlier, but it was looser on him, a bit disheveled even like he had run here.

When they’re within its distance, he lay his palm on the polished stone, waiting for a moment. It reacts violently after a second, the deep grooves in the marble filling with a glorious red light. Echo is mesmerized as he pulled his hand away from it, barely even noticing when he reaches his hand out to her next. “Give me your hand, the door needs to be able to recognize you.”

Confused, but curious, she tentatively gives him her much smaller hand, setting it in the center of his palm. His touch is cold, but its movements are gentle as he guides it to rest where his own hand had just been. He lays his palm over the top of her hand, encompassing it entirely and the door shudders before yellow light burst and twisted with the red, blowing it away in a dazzling clash. He’s close behind her, his wide chest pressing against her back as the colors whirling in front of them. When he finally released her, the colors snap away in a flash, leaving them back in the dark.

“Good, now when you return, this room will remember.” he rests a hand on her shoulder from behind, the cold making her skin break out into nervous gooseflesh. With the other hand he pushed open the large door, opening into a bedroom unlike one Echo had ever seen.

She steps inside, and it's uncannily warm. Windows surround the octagonal room on all sides excluding the door, and the furniture is all in maroon velvet. There are several chaises in the center, but on the far side opposing them was a huge four-poster bed covered in a white silk canopy draping down onto the floor. Everything besides that was decidedly bare, the shelves, the walls were a stark white against the red of the furniture, the floor was black marble, and she couldn’t believe she was being housed somewhere this...lush.

“This will be your quarters during your stay here, feel free to accumulate personal effects, the door prevents anyone from entering without your express permission.” He has a huge shit-eating grin on his face, pleased at her obvious bewilderment.

_ “This is all...for me?” _ She turns back to him for what feels like the first time since they reunited. He nods.

A ghost of a smile graces her cheeks before she remembers herself and turns back to the room. Her eyes wander around the fixtures, admiring the exquisite nature of the walls.  _ “You are...very kind, Mr. Tepes.”  _ if Vlad hadn’t been so focused on her, he would have missed it.

“It is no trouble. I assure you.” He steps closer behind her, almost reaching out to touch her shoulder again, but stops himself before he can. “I want you to be comfortable here. I may wish to research all of your claims, but in the chance that they are true…” He pauses, causing her to turn and face him, the words come out sullenly, “I want to ensure the safety of the mother of my son.”

Her smile comes out full force, and her voice is warm and inviting in the back of his mind.  _ “Thank you, Dracula. That is quite a declaration.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a little while since the last update for this, but here you guys go! Leave a comment if you like, if you don't or if you just want to call me a fake gamer girl.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a super long tumblr request that I decided to write! Multiple installments that will probably go on for a pretty long time. Leave a comment if you like, or if you just want to call me a fake gamer girl.
> 
> Story Idea, characters, and concept credit: Starsgoodforthesoul on Tumblr


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